Take One Step - Series of mostly Dramione oneshots
by TheQuietAwakening
Summary: Do you need to take a moment from the stress of life? I know I do. My anthem these past weeks has been 'one more step', taking things one at a time. So here is my interactive oneshot series where I write based on prompts from my readers! A great stress relief for me when I have time, and also hopefully for you reading. So take one more step and dive into my stories.
1. Shiver

**Prompt – Shiver (from a word prompt generator) - Drabble**

 **Summary - Hermione feels his stare and cannot seem to focus on anything else.**

* * *

I shiver.

It isn't because of the cold, even though there is a slight breeze this morning and the silence surrounding us leaves a chill hanging in the air.

It's his stare.

We stand outside Hogwarts a month after it happened; after that awful night that left so much sorrow on either side of this war. That's why _he_ is allowed here. A day of mourning. A day of peace.

But I shiver because of him, because of those eyes.

His gaze is intense. It's not cruel, not mocking, not judging. Intense.

It's as though he is attempting to unlock what is hidden behind the stoic appearance I have held, as though he is staring into my soul, trying to see the inner workings of my mind.

But why this is, I just cannot grasp.

He is behind me, a bit to my left and I can see him out of the corner of my eye. He seems lost, as though he is trying to hold onto something that keeps slipping from his grasp, as if everything he has ever known has come crumbling down around him and he is desperately trying to pick up the pieces but some of them can't be found. All this from a look.

Intense.

I close my eyes for a moment. What am I thinking? How can I possibly be reading so much into a simple gaze? Perhaps I am completely wrong. But I want to know.

After everything that has happened, I have finally gone insane. Because I genuinely want to know the weight of that stare. I want to ask about his side, about his views, about his thoughts. It's Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake!

I'm curious, yes, but what is truly terrifying is the desire to ask not only to know, but to understand.

I _want_ to ask. I _want_ to listen to his side of the story. Everyone forgets that we are all together in our pain, in our confusion, our sorrow. All of us.

And a commitment is made to myself that I _will_ ask, I _will_ listen.

The thought makes me shiver.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my wonderful readers! I finally posted something! My semester has been absolutely insane so far, but I had a little bit of time last night and thought I would destress a bit and do some writing. I didn't have much time, so I don't know how great it is, but please review and let me know!**

 **This is going to be the series I talk about on my profile page. I will write based on prompts from my readers when I have the time! Since I haven't really gotten anything so far, I just used one of those word prompt generators online, but it would be great if I could write about things you guys want to read!**

 **So, leave a comment and a prompt suggestion! Or if you wanted you could PM me a suggestion I would be cool with that as well. I'm excited for this and hopefully you guys will get into it as well!**


	2. The Bet

**The Bet**

 **Prompt: Draco uses Polyjuice potion (Thanks for the prompt sshanholtzer44! I changed it just a little bit, but I hope you still enjoy!)**

 **Summary: Draco loses a bet he forgot he made and must live a day as Harry Potter. What happens when he runs into Hermione?**

* * *

Everything is a mess. With an open book in front of me and a fairly empty common room, I cannot focus on a single word. Why me? Out of all the Slytherins with Death Eater fathers, why me? I don't want to complete the task, but my thoughts on the matter don't count for anything. In fact, they might get me, and my parents killed. But every time I think of what I must do, I get this sickening feeling deep within me. I have to push that down, harden myself enough to get it done. I need to ignore my conscience and make a real effort.

I need to go to bed. Sleep will help with the stress. At least, that's what they say. This area is a bit complicated for me, as every time I close my eyes I see Dumbledore's corpse at my feet. But I have the dreamless sleep potion Mother sends me each week, and that helps somewhat.

I close my book, of which I did not read a single phrase, and push myself from the sofa, stretching my limbs and ready to head to my dormitory.

"Malfoy!" I jump at the sound.

"Crabbe?" I respond, not liking the smug look on his face. "What?"

"I passed," he states.

"Again, I ask: what?"

"You don't remember? The essay I was working on that you bet I wouldn't pass. You were so confident that you even said you would go a day as Potter if I passed," Crabbe explains.

"Still not following," I say, shaking my head and turning toward my room. Then I freeze. It dawns on me that I did say something of the sort.

"Well, you did. And I passed."

I whip back to face him. "I don't have time for this! It doesn't matter what I said then, I have bigger things than a silly little bet to worry about and you know it!"

"But I worked hard for this!" he exclaims, then seems shocked by his own words.

So, he put in extra effort because he wanted me to follow through. I'm shocked myself. Crabbe isn't going to let this go.

He takes a deep breath and I don't like what I think is coming. "I'll tell," he says.

"Are you blackmailing me?" I ask, brows raised.

"I guess I am," he announces a bit uncertainly.

"You don't know anything," I tell him, fairly confident I've left them in the dark.

"I don't know everything, but I know some. You've gotten us involved."

I grit my teeth, angry with myself for ever insisting their help. "Fine. What do you want?"

"You know what. You have that polyjuice stuff that makes us into girls. You take it and make it Potter. You live a day as him."

So that's what this is about. He really hates being a girl that much? My mind is turning. How can I get out of this? How can I actually pull this off without anyone knowing?

I just won't leave my room. I'll take a one day break, do some research in my room instead of in the room of requirement. This could be alright.

"Fine," I say.

* * *

 _The next morning . . ._

My stomach is turning for a different reason this morning as I stand in my room with the cup of potion in my hand. Crabbe got a hair from Potter and I don't even want to know how. Wincing already, I lift the cup to my lips and let the thick, acrid substance slither down my throat. In the next moment, my body is changing, shifting, and it is the strangest sensation. My hair turns dark, my vision degrades and I feel the uncanny urge to vomit on the floor.

There is a smirk on Crabbe's face as though this is all he has wanted for a while.

"Get to class!" I yell in Potter's voice and Crabbe hurries from the room.

Rolling my eyes and sighing, I sit down on my bed. Never again. Never will I ever do something as stupid as this.

Then it strikes me that I have done something even worse. I didn't actually go to the library to pick up the books I need to make today worthwhile. I cover my face, Potter's face, with my hand, my heart beginning to race. I have to finish fixing the cabinet in time and that means I cannot take an entire day off. This won't do. I will just have to be stealthy.

I poke my head out the door to make sure everyone is gone before I make my way from the Slytherin Common rooms to the library. The halls are rather empty as classes are in session, but still, I am overly conscious of the way I am walking. What if somebody notices something wrong? What if somebody found out that I, Draco Malfoy, have taken on the form of Harry Potter for a day?

Finally reaching the library, I am about to breathe a sigh of relief when I hear someone; the worst someone other than Potter himself.

"Harry?" Granger. She thinks I'm really Potter. "Why aren't you in class?"

"Why aren't you?" I deflect.

She looks down at the table covered in books. "I just, I know it's silly, but I can't bring myself to face him. Not today." She glances up at me expectantly. What do I do?

Unsure, I sit down beside her. "Who can't you face?" I ask.

"Ron." _Weasley?_ "He's gotten worse. He keeps flaunting his relationship with Lavender in my face. I . . . it's been a rough day," she explains. "I wanted to go to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party with him," wait, Granger likes _Weasley?_ How could _anyone_ like _him_? "but now . . . I don't want to go alone and I knew . . . Cormac Mclaggen. He wouldn't say no. Plus, it would definitely bug Ron. . ."

"Mclaggen?" I nearly laugh before remembering I'm Potter and try to hold it back. I clear my throat.

"Oh, I know. And I want nothing to do with him, but Harry, I just want to feel secure in _something_. And if that something must be that I have someone to go with to the party, so be it."

What's she talking about?

"I know what you're thinking. I won't let him take advantage of me. You know what I've been going through lately with everything that's going on out there. I've been trying to keep my mind off of it by focusing on my studies, but Harry, I'm afraid. And I need this," she says.

She's saying too much! She thinks I'm Potter and is _confiding_ in me! I don't care about her life. I don't care about this! What am I supposed to say?

But something inside me . . . hurts. I can't quite explain it, but it's as though I've been struck from the inside. For a moment, Granger, the Mudblood, becomes Granger, the person.

I swallow. "Why are you afraid? It isn't as though anything can happen at Hogwarts."

How untrue. I know full well what horrors can go on even within the castle walls.

"You know what's happening out there. My parents could be killed. _I_ could be killed. I need things to keep my mind off it for a while."

And for a moment, I hate myself. She makes me hate myself. Because Granger has the same fears I do. That stabs at me and I don't know why. She is nothing. She is dirty, a mudblood. She isn't someone who should make me feel anything, and yet, I do. Because she is a person. For a moment, she is a person who is similar to myself. I know the fear, I know the pain of constant wondering, constant worry. I wouldn't wish it on anyone and I am partly to blame for hers.

"I need to go," I say, pushing back the chair and standing up. She seems confused, hurt. But I am not Potter, I am not her best friend, and I need to get out of here before she makes me feel anything else.

So I leave, practically running from the library, forgetting my task, my books, the cabinet. Granger made me feel for her and I just can't take it. I shouldn't, I can't let this effect me.

* * *

 _One day later. . ._

She clings to my thoughts. Dirty mudblood Granger, who shouldn't be anywhere near those except for hate. But she stays.

I see her. She is walking towards me down the hall and she doesn't know that I know. She doesn't know that she told me everything. She doesn't know that I do it too. We walk the halls with fake smiles, focused on the task ahead, but inside, we're trembling.

I duck down another hall as she passes, because I had an urge. An urge that I definitely couldn't act on.

I wanted to talk.

And that could ruin everything.

So I walk away.

And will myself to forget.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my wonderful readers! Sorry I haven't posted in a few weeks. This series is going to be a bit slower because I'm in school, but whenever I have a break it's writing time! Let me know what you think! Maybe one day, some of these could turn into novels! Please review!**

 **Again, I'm asking for prompts. Either at the end of a review or PM me and I'll try to write based on it!**

 **Thanks again sshanholtzer44 for giving my first reader prompt, it really meant so much to me!**


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